


Feline Frolics

by Luthienberen



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Transformation, Damsel in Distress!Bertie, Dragons, Dwarves, Feline Bertie, Happily Ever After, Humor, Knight!Jeeves, M/M, Magic, POV First Person, Quests, Romance, sorcery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22017397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: Prince Bertie Wooster of the Western Wilds is transformed by his wicked Aunt Agatha into a Cat when he refuses to marry one time too many. In a jiffy Bertie escapes into the nearby forest where he befriends Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots.Together they undertake a Quest to transform Bertie back into his human form. Along the way they encounter a dragon, a sorceress and dwarfs, as well as falling in love.Will they succeed?Well, this is a fairy tale so a Happily Ever After can be won by fair prince, faithful heart and a stalwart Knight! As long as they stay true to the Quest.Read on if you wish fair reader to learn of their adventures…
Relationships: Reginald Jeeves/Bertram "Bertie" Wooster
Comments: 35
Kudos: 46





	1. Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to a prompt posted on the Jeeves and Wooster kink meme ([give_satisfaction](https://give-satisfaction.dreamwidth.org/)) on dreamwidth:  
> https://give-satisfaction.dreamwidth.org/2406.html?thread=8038#cmt8038  
>  _Fairy-tale AU! Prince!Bertie is now an over-friendly cat having been transformed by a witch (Aunt Agatha ? ) he befriends knight Jeeves who ultimately after some shenanigans helps him transform back, they lived happily ever after the end._
> 
> I posted my fill over at the dreamwidth community and I am now uploading on A03 since it is finished.
> 
> Thank you again Original Poster for the prompt. This was my first Jeeves & Wooster fanfic, so I hope it has proven to be fun! Thank you also for everyone’s patience in waiting for updates and for the lovely comments – both are much appreciated!

* * *

**Once Upon A Time** a dashing Prince was enjoying a cuppa when his blasted Aunt blew in a blustering gale of rage. 

Said Aunt was none other than my wicked witch Aunt Agatha. Now, don't think I am throwing about insults or unjust accusations. Aunt Agatha is really a witch and a bad one at that - no granting of three wishes or brewing healing potions! Oh no, A.A. was a true capital letters witch of the order: Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows.

Normally she lurked in her domain among her cavern of Willow trees, all gloomy and weeping; I should imagine from having my Aunt living under their branches.

Unfortunately, this morning, the Wicked Witch of the W.W, descended upon her innocent nephew as he relished a proper brew of tea.

I heard her spluttering about marriage even as she approached in a forceful gale of luminescent green smoke, (jolly impressive and terrifying I must admit), I did what any besieged nephew would do: I fled.

Alas, A.A. glimpsed my rather perfect purple shoes as I darted away, tea spilling as I went. Even angrier my Aunt actually _transformed me into a cat!_

I say, surely an overreaction, right?

Have you ever been turned into a feline? Well, it’s painful I must say - wouldn't recommend.

My bones cracked, my body shrank then elongated, a hot burning itch tickled its path up my spine as abruptly I gained flexibility in only the way a cat could possess. The sprouting of ginger fur made me yelp. At least it was a pleasant tickling feeling.

This was followed by the most dreadful sensation at the base of my spine, similar to the time where one of my woollen tunics scratched me most awfully, leaving a raw painful rash for _days_. 

I twisted around to see what the fuss was and lo and behold a tail! Quite a fetching one in my mind.

It was all over in a jiffy and yours truly was now a domesticated cat, (or as domesticated as any cat can be).

Standing tall and rather frightening what with the violet hue to her eyes and the terrible grim reminiscent of a hungry werewolf, the Wicked Witch of the W.W. cackled. A bit stereotypical if you ask me, but even I was wise enough not to say that thought aloud.

“Now Bertie you shall remain so until I find you a suitable wife!” 

Her triumphant grin accompanied by another cackle was intimidating and awfully ominous. Let it not be said that one fine feline prince was stupid, (or overly so at any rate), so I utilised some fancy feline footwork.

In a jiffy I sprang past her and landed magnificently on the window ledge of the window overlooking the front garden. Squeezing my way through the gap I landed with a slight merowl on the perfectly manicured grass. Seems like this cat thing was hit and miss, but I was determined to do better - once I was clear of wicked aunts and even more worryingly, prospective brides.

Without further ado I sped off relishing the speed. Aunt Agatha’s screeches were quite abrasive to my newly sensitive hearing, but fortunately after a while they faded to nothing as I entered the nearby forest.

Once beyond two gigantic oaks, very handsome and regal in their appearance, I paused. My triangular ears twitched, but picked up no tell-tale noise of angry witches, either stomping after errant nephews or popping into reality nearby. My delicate nose sniffed the air and no scent of smoke - the smoke of too many hideous experiments gone wrong - marred my nostrils. My paws could feel no vibration from the footfall of the Wicked Witch of the Weeping Willows so I finally relaxed.

Gazing about I saw that I had come deeper into the forest than I realised. The trees were all tall and ancient, the wonderful scent of green foliage and the lives of many animals wafted to my nose. Due to some sort of kitty memory I _knew_ what they meant, which was rather wonderful. Mice and rats scampering amid the trees while birds flapped through the trees.

Foxes and wolves - oh I say, I best move on!

So I padded on, cheerful that my whiskers were able to dictate which gaps I could pass through. The sun cast a dappled light down here, the green and silver leaves like a fisherman’s net through which the sunlight had to pass.

I had fun glancing back at my tail as I padded along for it was ginger and white and fluffy. It flicked in surprise when I envisioned a brilliant blue bird calling to a beautiful emerald lady species. It went straight up and bristling when I smelled a wolf close. At that point you can be safe to deduce I clambered up a tree faster than I believed possible and without thinking.

Exhilarating if scary.

Once the tall grey wolf strolled by, clever eyes considering all sorts of philosophical matters I should guess, I somehow got down with a bump. 

Embarrassed I licked my fur and put on a big show of Not Caring a Jot, for whatever audience I might have in this terribly occupied forest.

As I was ordering my tail - removing a particularly friendly leaf - I heard the step of a horse and man. More, the distinct taint of steel. A Knight! Hopeful, I crouched and waited.

Can I tell you that I always thought those tales of Love at First Sight were rubbish? Well, I was wrong. Into my world stepped a most magnificent fellow. Tall and regal this Knight led his white charger as they walked through the sylvan gloom.

I flexed my claws and inhaled. Ah, his scent was masculine and earthy, the sweet bloom of flowers gracing him. This Knight clearly cared for his body. His helmet was off and attached to the saddle. His dark hair was swept back and groomed, while his face was clean-shaven with an aristocratic nose.

Yet most of all he was one of those bally folks you can literally _smell and see_ kindness rolling off them. Here was a K. who just promised he was a good chap. So, while I was enjoying my stint as a cat, I decided to try my luck and see if this Sir Kind Knight would help a stray kitty.

Rising I meowed loudly and trotted over. Sir Kind K. halted and smiled, his dark eyes brimming with warmth. 

“What have we here?”

I meowed and rubbed against his legs though the metal greaves weren’t the most comfortable.

Mr Knight removed his gloves and crouched to pet me. His large warm hands were gentle and affectionate, his voice full of tenderness.

“Sir Cat, may I ask where you have travelled from? Such a delicate feline ought not be wandering by themselves in this perilous forest.”

Arching my back under those miraculous hands I paused to gaze into those dark eyes full of curiosity.

“Well, my Aunt Agatha - a frightful woman Sir Knight - transformed me into a cat! She’s the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows and feels her nephew - and nephews in general - should be married. I say, dreadful right?”

Astonishment flickered on the Knight’s face, but then he spoke calmly. “I have heard many tales of this Witch and indeed Sir Cat, I have faced her twisted minions.”

He scrutinised me carefully. “I see you bear her mark.” A careful finger touched my forehead.

“A patch of brown fur resembling a willow Sir Cat,” he explained. “Since that is the case Sir Cat I am beholden to help you. Come, we must undertake a journey to find a cure and face your Aunt.”

Face old A.A. the Wicked Witch of W.W? That made the old belly flop, but I meowed as bravely as I could, with only a slight tremble. I was happy however when Sir Knight lifted me up and onto his horse. He fashioned a little holdall for me from red blankets and there I curled up, still viewing the world.

“Sir Cat, what is your name if I may inquire? I am Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots - a land devoted to rope and net making as well as the weaving of garments in general.”

I best not mention I was a prince quite yet. Didn’t want the chap not to fall in love, because of rank. (If I was lucky enough to snare him!). “Bertie will do, Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots. A noble of some standing. I am grateful for your assistance and hope to celebrate our union after all this.”

I yelped at the realisation at what I said, though apart from a trembling of lips and a lifted brow the Knight was kind enough not to comment on my faux pas. Instead he recommenced his journey, now with one feline and former human in tow. I focused on settling down in my fortress, grateful the kindly knight had lived up to my wishes.

I must brag that I certainly chose the right chap!


	2. Scarlet Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In their first adventure Sir Jeeves and Bertie the Feline Prince encounter a Dragon, but not is all as it seems.

* * *

Two days have passed where we travelled across a shifting landscape. Sir Jeeves took me deeper into the forest where stately oaks reared ever higher overhead, interspaced with shorter slender interlopers. Our horse stepped assuredly around or through rather friendly plants.

The scents and sights were astonishing. As a feline I could sniff out a mouse hiding among the ferns yards off and hear the quiet rustle as a fox slinked off with a juicy rabbit. My vision was spiffing, for when we entered more spacious areas of the forest I could see quite clearly the hawk hovering in the sky, or see the squirrels dashing from tree to tree.

I say, it was all absolutely smashing.

After day one I insisted on sitting with Jeeves so he permitted me to curl up against his front when things were silent.

Good old Sir J. would be on the alert keeping us all safe. Can't help but feel secure with him! 

However, my favourite part of the second day was when we stopped under a silver birch tree.

"We are not far from the edge of the forest Lord Bertie," said Sir Jeeves as he led his charger to the stream to drink.

I followed on silent paws, relishing the soft springy moss and grass. 

"Bertie remember, Sir Knight of Kindly Knot?"

Oh he looked so pained, but then he smiled so handsomely I meowed.

"Of course Lord...I mean, Bertie."

"Marvellous!"

I carefully drank, keeping my paws away from the stream. I did not have an aversion to water like some cats, but a dunking would be jolly unpleasant.

After a good drink I padded off to nibble on a fern for digestive purposes, waiting for Jeeves to prepare lunch. That was when this busy feline saw the rabbit. Well, this intrepid F. wanted nothing more than to prove to the dashing Knight he wasn't a dead weight like that morningstar he has hooked on his battle charger.

So I dropped to my belly, whiskers quivering, nose twitching, tail flicking ever so minutely you would blink and miss it. Slowly the rabbit jumped closer, eating the luscious ferns as well.

Earth and flesh...hot fresh blood...was this how real cats lived? The soft thump of paws on the grass, barely audible yet for this F. as loud as one of Aunt Dahlia's lectures.

My bottom wriggled as my prey came into close range...and I pounced.

...and missed.

Instead I slid through the ferns nearly hitting the silver birch. My yowl of despair was impressive I tell you.

Heavy footfalls came rushing up to me.

"Oh dear me. Bertie, are you hurt?"

A calloused hand gently stroked my back and at my pathetic meow, I was picked up and cradled close. Gazing up rather mournfully, I felt my fur bristle with embarrassment.

"I missed the rabbit!"

Dark eyes full of amusement and warmth soothed me.

"Bertie if I may say so. You are currently a cat, but without all the training and experience _of_ a cat. To be unsuccessful in a hunt is not shameful."

Strong fingers stroked my head then rubbed my cheek. I purred at the sensation, my embarrassment fading slightly.

Such a remarkable brain and full of dashed compassion!

"May I ask what persuaded you to try hunting an _Oryctolagus cuniculus_?”

By the whiskers what did the good chap mean?

“A rabbit,” supplied Jeeves helpfully and with a twinkle in his eyes. “As I was saying Bertie. We do have food, though if you wish fresh meat I am happy to oblige."

Well, if that wasn’t dashed mortifying. Princes - even ones transformed into a cat by barmy Aunts - had _some_ pride. So I licked my paw and tried to sound as lofty as those regal cats I saw depicted on tapestries.

"Meant for you," I mumbled. Oh _rabbit._

Yet my Kindly Knight smiled and said "Ah," which was full of understanding. Must be that large B. of his. I can’t imagine how he knows everything without being told. Perhaps he eats a lot of fish? Bingo keeps on muttering about how fish is good for you, or was that due to his latest lost love?

I rubbed a paw over my cheek to dislodge a bit of moss. Simply put I must ask how much fish Sir Jeeves eats. That way a Prince will know how to look after his Knight of Kindly Knots.

Said Knight of K.K. touched my bright purple collar with a slight tremor of his lips. Must be astonished at my good taste.

"There is no need Bertie. I am perfectly content with your company if you are with mine."

I peeked up into a questioning expression, which made me quietly hopeful. Of course Jeeves was serious, he was the most honourable Knight I have met as Prince and cat.

I pressed my nose against his fingers and he grinned.

"We could always fish later if you wish?" Jeeves set me down as he made the offer, but all I could think of triumphantly was that (well Bingo, but I’ll never live it down if I mention it to the chap), _I was right!_

_Sir K. of Kindly Knots fed his magnificent brain full of fishy goodness!_

Well, I would become the best fisher so my Jeeves only had the best F. to feed his thinking powers.

Since that was settled we had a delicious lunch and continued on our Quest.

☆☆☆

A woosh of fire and the smell of burning startled me from my snooze against Jeeves. Bolting upright I peered about, fur all out of sorts.

“What is it Bertie?” asked Jeeves, voice calm but with that tone you just _know_ means business.

“Up ahead my good man. Fire and a stench of that um...it begins with a b?”

“Brimstone?”

“Yes, the good old B.”

My ears twitched - crikey being a feline was fun.

“Armour clanking - a knight I think? There’s a large beast in trouble. He keeps warning the Knight back. I say Jeeves, we better help!”

I am proud to declare that Jeeves did not even hesitate. He put me into my holdall, grabbed his lance and urged his charger forward. The gushing air through my fur was exhilarating and a moment later we burst out of the narrow gorge, where the steep rocks sides rose high above us and led into a flat plain of land.

The horse cantered away from the dry riverbed and up the valley side, over and ah!

A magnificent Dragon stood at guard in front of a cave, form coiled about something. Its iridescent hide gleamed scarlet in the sun. The Dragon - and believe me, it was deserving of a capital D - was protecting a nest of eggs, I realised, from a churlish Knight. Said Knight was at the advantage, clad in armour, though his face was exposed.

I saw Jeeves’ handsome jaw set and his eyes blazed with wrath at this unjust Knight.

“Wait here Bertie,” he said and before I could protest he had lowered me safely to the grass. Well! 

Struggling out of my holdall I glared after my brave and suddenly foolish Knight. Chivalry was all very well, but the honour of the Woosters was at stake and I couldn’t let a poor innocent D. be hurt, nor allow my K. to be harmed.

The Dragon was still, watching in surprise as Jeeves rode up and challenged the Unjust Knight. I racked my brains for a plan and was quite proud at the idea that bubbled up (just like the cocktails served at Aunt Dahlia's last soiree).

I bounded up to the Dragon who stared down at me with big amber orbs.

“Sir Dragon! I need your help to vanquish that unpleasant fellow!”

I whirled as I heard the lash of spears and watched in concern as my Stoic Jeeves turned his charger with a grim expression. I could tell his wonderful B. was analysing all sorts of information, but the Unjust Knight was as big as an ogre. 

Just then the Dragon spoke, his voice deep as a mine and rich as honey. “I shall aid you both in defeating my enemy, but I cannot leave my eggs unguarded.”

My whiskers quivered and my tail went straight up with excitement and nerves. 

“Oh Sir Dragon, there shall be no need to leave your eggs.” 

The Dragon nodded and I howled in alarm as a massive claw tipped paw gently scooped me up and brought me eye level.

“Tell me your plan Sir Cat.”

So I did and the Dragon was very good about it all. In a jiffy I was hurtling through the air to land _exactly_ on the Unjust K.’s exposed face. Extended claws did the job as did my fine set of teeth. 

The scoundrel tried grabbing me, but I had managed to get to grips a bit more with this feline malarkey business and succeeded in evading his grasp, and dug my claws into his skin as I clambered onto his head.

“Bertie!” cried Jeeves and I glanced over my shoulder to see my Knight drawing up to the frantic knave masquerading as a knight. 

Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots did not waste a single breath and before I knew what was happening, he unseated the cad while I leapt to be caught safely by my chivalrous Knight of K.K.

“Good job Jeeves!” I meowed as the fellow hit the ground hard. 

The handsome face remained stoic even though I could smell his fear. He descended with me now perched on top of his shiny helmet - a bit tricky and needing a purple plumage methinks - and approached the fallen Unjust Knight.

“Baron Staple of Sickly Swamp. Your unjust reign is at an end. Sir Dragon, you are the aggrieved party, what sentence do you demand?”

Ah, Sir Jeeves was a True Knight. I loved him even more, not merely a brain but a heart too.

Sir Dragon now uncoiled from his eggs, showing a beautiful sinuous shape, which undulated as he walked over. A large head with fine blue whiskers and amber eyes lowered to gaze at us three.

“Sir Knight and Sir Cat, I owe you and my children our lives, for I could not leave my eggs until this very moment when the sun was high in the heavens. If I had, the lack of warmth would have killed them.”

A bright red tongue showed when he spoke, long and forked like a serpent, but I wasn’t afraid. This Serpent was a good sort. 

A black talon tapped the terrified Baron. “Kill him Sir Knight and in return I shall visit this swamp and put matters right, so that all who live there - animal and human - may dwell in peace.”

I jumped onto the Dragon’s shoulder as the deed was done, saddened but glad that the Wooster honour had been upheld.

“Now,” rumbled the Dragon as he lifted me back to the earth, “what have we here? An enchanted human?”

I spoke hastily before the Dragon could give me away. “Sir Dragon, I once was a human, but my evil Aunt Agatha, the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows transformed me into a feline because I refused to marry!”

“Indeed?”

“I mean Sir Dragon, what is a nephew to do? All the women my dreadful Aunt threw at me were simply not for me.” I flicked my tail to emphasise my point.

“My Aunt lived up to her reputation as the Wicked Witch of W.W. that day, but all I did was try to flee. I couldn’t hang around where I was in imminent danger after all.”

I meowed at Sir Dragon’s amusement.

“Frightful sorcery. Anyway, Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots rescued me, and is now on a Quest to transform me back into my human shape.”

“Indeed,” said Jeeves solemnly. “I am grateful we could assist you Sir Dragon, but alas, we must be on our way.”

“Wait,” commanded the Dragon. “I can help you on your quest.”

He walked gracefully, tail swishing most superbly, directly into his cave only to reappear a moment later with the most beautiful crystal I have ever seen.

“I know a little magic Sir Knight and such enchantments are not unknown to me. To cure our furry friend you must brew a potion to be drunk from a magical goblet crafted by one of the little folk. Here,” Sir Dragon held out the jewel.

It sparkled most beautifully in the sun. 

I was fascinated and jumped up to try and catch the flashing rainbows with my paws. Jeeves chuckled and accepted the crystal with careful hands. He crouched so I could jump into arms and play with the crystal.

“Seek a maiden with a talent for spell craft Sir Knight, for she will have the knowledge of the herbs and flowers required for the potion. Ensure you add this crystal to the potion so that the spell of enchantment may be reversed.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, overwhelmed by S.D.’s generosity. “That is jolly decent of you. Thank you!”

Jeeves bowed. “We are in your debt Sir Dragon. If you ever need a friend, send a messenger to my land, requesting Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots, and I shall answer.”

“I too!” I meowed. “I am Bertie.”

Sir Dragon’s laughed, a small puff of smoke appearing. His pleasure was a sweet scent of fire and brimstone stuff, without the horrible associations.

“My name is Meirion. Thank you Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots - the same in return. Sir Bertie, may you find _all_ what you seek and know I am always your friend.”

Crikey, this Dragon knew both my secrets! Could two beings with such magnificent brains exist? 

I am amazed our rivers have sufficient fish stock. When I am human again, I must ensure that our fish are protected and maintained.

“Do not wait too long Sir Bertie,” added Meirion the Dragon. 

I nodded in return and resolved to tell my Knight who I was at our next stop.

I just hope my spiffing fellow would still care for me and not be lost to silly old _class._ Then again, I am a Wooster and we do not give up easily. One P. would simply make himself indispensable and loveable.

Quite satisfied with my decision I curled around my precious crystal and plotted as Jeeves directed his faithful steed towards the valleys ahead.


	3. Maiden Marvellous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here lies unveiled Part 3 of our Fairy-tale Adventure! Love confessions, a Maiden Marvellous and Fair and Bertie coming clean. I say, what a crowded part! Grab a drink and settle down for after this, we draw near to the final instalment! 
> 
> Just to note that this is a mythical Britain, blending a bit of history with a fairy tale mythical Britain.

* * *

We soon left the valleys behind us and descended down onto a flat plain of land. Well, sort of flat. The earth did dip and roll most pleasantly, forming a smashing series of fair fields. Unfortunately, so far said F.F. lacked any fair maidens with a convenient bag of spells and what-nots.

Jeeves however remained upbeat and would most kindly point out interesting landmarks and explain simply yet seriously their significance. I say, I wish my teachers had been half as splendid as my Knight of Kindly Knots. Though, admittedly, it was his dashed voice that had me more spellbound than my ghastly Aunt Agatha’s sorcery.

His noggin was a fine one and when we paused three days out from our meeting with Sir Meirion, our spiffing Scarlet Serpent, I elected to try my paws at fishing. Partly to fuel that magnificent brain of his and partly to sneak my way into his good graces.

A girl I know – a soppy lady by the name of Madeline Bassett, who has a dreadful tendency to threaten marriage whenever she is on shaky grounds with her fellow of choice, Gussie, (and what a fright that gives me, for my honour will not allow me to escape easily!) – always muttered that food was the way to a man’s heart.

I do relish a good supper so perhaps my Jeeves will also fancy a meal caught by this feline. Admittedly, Sir K, it not quite “my Jeeves” yet, but what else is a besotted F. to do?

Naturally you are thinking, but what about the Rabbit Incident? And yes, it is deserving of a capital “R” and “I”. Never fear though! I have been practising while my erstwhile defender has been sleeping. Goes against the Bertie grain – as well as the feline one – to miss sleep, but I do wish to show my hard working Knight that this is one Prince who will not rest on his laurels and is worthy of such a splendid specimen of manhood.

Providing for my Knight is vital. Hence, my practice.

Any meow, I was quietly confident so when we paused by the little brook crisscrossing two fields I knew my time had come.

The most beautiful fish were darting through the clear waters: silvery streaks as well as bright splashes of crimson and pink.

“Bertie,” said Jeeves with a slight blush at using my first name, “should you be so close to the water?”

I fluffed up my fur and flicked my ears. “Meow! Of course Jeeves, why not? I have been practising.”

Jeeves blinked in surprise as he finished removing Alys’ tack. Our steed tossed her head and went further upstream to drink. I’m certain she was helping me so I meowed my thanks and received a gentle whinny in return.

A splash as a fish leapt over the small dip in the brook where it formed a tiny cascade of water over glistening rocks into the lower bed seized my attention. It was time to hunt and prove I could provide for Sir Jeeves of K.K.

My bally nerves started up, but I pushed them away and jumped down the side of the bank to the soft soil right next to the bed of the brook. I crouched, watching. My fluffy ginger tail flicked slightly. I could hear the F. swimming through the waters, feel the squishy softness of the muddy bank under my paws, (which would require some cleaning off my paws and belly), and there was more…the scent of moss and the strange vibrant and crowded fragrance of the plants living underwater.

Insects and spiders ghosted across the surface, from algae or on the breeze from watercress clump to watercress patch. Thin white strands covered the plants as the spiders travelled along them as quickly as Madeline Bassett contemplating marriage to Gussie, to wavering towards me when the fellow does something dashed stupid.

Shuddering at the similarity I turned my feline fancy back to the matter at paw and contemplated the fast running brook.

_There!_

I leapt in one graceful motion and lashed out with my paw. A silvery fish shot up in the air and in a flash my jaws closed about the wriggly body. In a jiffy I was back on the shore and had clambered back up the bank to Jeeves who wore a most flummoxed expression.

Then it transformed into one of wonder and delight.

“Well done Bertie! That was magnificent! A true display of feline fortitude and skill.”

Well, I tell you, that did me the world of good. Dropping my now very still fish I sat back on haunches with a warm glow suffusing my body.

“It is for _you_ my Kindly Knight,” I said and immediately proceeded to lick my wet fur back into place.

There was silence then movement as grass was crushed, releasing that pleasant smell of freshly shorn grass. A large hand touched my head and calloused yet tender fingers stroked. I stopped in sorting the fur on my chest and glanced up.

Oh, his smile made him even handsomer. I say, not fair right?

Yet his eyes were a deep dark brown, full of a glow I couldn’t place. His expression was a thoughtful one as his clever brain figured out something.

“For me? I thank you Bertie, but why? Surely you should have the pleasure in celebrating your first catch by eating aforementioned catch?”

This was the moment and I just hoped my blasted tongue wouldn’t confuse the whole thing.

“Well, that is to say, Sir Knight of Kindly Knots, the fish is for your remarkable B. which must require a lot of fishy goodness to keep working. Also, it is a thank you and a symbol of my ability to _provide_.”

My ears twitched and I forged on, scarcely able to admit to loving my Knight let alone revealing my true self.

“You may think it foolish, but I…care for you greatly. My affections are all genuine I assure you! As such I must declare my…”

I paused to steady my nerves as I prepared to tumble over the brink, for how could I reveal my true identity without hurting Jeeves?

You see, hiding your true self is rather tricky and becomes trickier the longer you go on. Meirion was quite right there. Oh, what a pickle I was in! Yet, as I fretted, Jeeves stopped petting me and laid down so we could see eye to eye. He was smiling still and I could see his B. had calculated away and concluded something. I hoped it wasn’t my identity, at least not yet.

“Bertie,” he said, so softly and kindly – just as was his nature – “please do not be afraid. I will not be angry. I hardly dare hope, and this is rather forward of me, so I beg forgiveness.”

Jeeves coughed delicately, his cheeks aflame.

“Am I correct in supposing that your…affections are ones of friendship?”

I meowed in agreement, heart beating fast. I could smell Jeeves’ nervousness yet the deep musk of hope and…I blushed in the feline fashion: ears momentarily pressed down then up.

“More than friendship..?” So tentative yet hopeful!

I meowed affirmatively once more, nearly fainting in hope.

The happiness that swept those handsome features was a sight to behold. The musky scent was now streaked through with the fragrant blossom of sheer joy.

“I am of quite the same temperament Bertie. That is, my affection is of a long-lasting nature. Like the evergreen it will not fade.”

How romantic. In return all I could do was show my pleasure and I headbutted my – _my_ – Knight.

“The same Sir Jeeves!” I cried in response. “This is a jolly turn of events. My own personal K.!”

Jeeves laughed, yet the part I dreaded had finally arrived. I must tell Jeeves all.

Yet before I could continue with my confession I heard footsteps and into our little secret world stepped none other than Honoria Glossop.

☆☆☆

“Well I never!” she boomed.

She stood before us arrayed in an outfit more suited to a battlefield. Honoria was an old acquaintance and quite terrifying. Once or twice _both_ my aunts have threatened me with marriage to Honoria.

I only escaped by being deemed “too meek” and in the second occasion saved by a whisker from the looming long walk down the aisle by a better option. Still haven’t met the individual in question but I am terribly grateful. They must either be loony or equally terrifying as Honoria.

For Miss Glossop puts most Knights to shame. A tall athletic lady who favours leggings, tunics and leather arm guards and a leather chest guard. Short sensible hair is brushed back and on her head is a studded leather helmet.

Currently she was carrying a bag, the strap secured over her head and opposite shoulder, a bow with arrows on her back and on her belt an assortment of equipment that would make a bandit think twice. A staff, with a peculiar raven symbol etched on it, also was attached to her back – I had seen it numerous times and thought it rather odd, but been too intimidated to ask for what purpose.

Now I blinked as my feline senses picked up what my dull human senses had not previously.

Oh no, Honoria is a witch!

Just my luck.

Of course, my Knight knew Honoria was a witch at once, by the swift way he rose and lifted me to his shoulder. Good, even though Honoria turned my blood to ice and my tail to droop, I couldn’t leave my Jeeves alone in her presence.

Even his frightful intelligence could be overcome by a beguiling spell!

So we faced H.G. together.

Honoria glanced at me, blinked and then rolled her eyes. My fur bristled, surely I wasn’t that bad a looking cat?

My purple collar was quite spiffing against my ginger and white fur!

“Bertie isn’t it? What have you got yourself into now? I suppose you are the poor Knight trying to cure Bertie’s aliment?”

Jeeves calmly nodded (how I do not know) and spoke in the same respectful manner he always did to people – or dragons and enchanted humans – he felt worthy, (for those unworthy he had a rum manner of _sounding_ respectful, while somehow indicating what he _really_ thought about you – drove the subject bonkers for there was nothing they could pin on my clever Knight and his magnificent B.).

“Yes, Miss..?”

“Glossop, Honoria Glossop.”

“Thank you Miss Glossop. I am Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots and I am on a quest with Bertie to remove the enchantment cast upon him by the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows.”

“Aunt Agatha up to her usual tricks I see,” snorted the powerhouse of a woman who recalled to mind that Celtic Warrior who drove back those Roman fellows. Began with a B. Bertha? Bettany? Boudicca?

I shook off the distraction as Sir Jeeves of K.K. nodded.

“Indeed Miss Glossop. In our quest we befriended a dragon who revealed what we must do to break the spell. We already possess the crystal, but alas we must seek a maiden with knowledge of spell-craft for the correct herbs and flowers, and then one of the little folk who dwell in the deep caverns of this world for a goblet to brew the potion from which Bertie must drink.”

H.G nodded along, amusement plain.

I curled my claws into the leather shoulder guards, happy that they would protect my Knight from the sharp touch of my claws.

“You looked rather comfortable for a Knight, Horse and Enchanted Cat on a quest,” noted Honoria, eyes sharp and assessing. One hand was on the hilt of her dagger, the other rubbing the back of her neck in a fashion that had my F. senses prickling.

Jeeves however was unfazed. I loved him even more – quite ridiculous honestly – surely there was only a certain amount you could love someone before bursting? Hopefully not, for at this bally rate I will be in an awful mess by tea-time, let alone by supper when Jeeves eats his fish!

“We are very much in love Miss Glossop I assure you.”

H.G. scrutinised us then nodded sharply. My fur settled I tell you and furthermore a flush of relief when there was no protest of trying to “regain” my affections.

“That I can see Sir Jeeves.”

“Thank you Miss Glossop. Now, may I be so bold as to request your assistance? For I can perceive that you are a sorceress and by the mark on your staff and your appearance you must be the _Sorceress Raven of Ravenous Reaches?_ ”

Honoria laughed, big and booming.

“Sir Jeeves you are a perceptive chap! Glad Bertie has you. He always needed a good stern hand.”

_I say!_ Before I could protest, my brain suddenly processed Honoria’s title.

Golly! No wonder Honoria reminded me of that Warrior Queen! She was the famous Sorceress who had repelled a giant attack and healed an entire town of a curious sickness that had swept the populace, brought on by an evil wizard!

H.G. could also transform into animals and is said to take Raven form in many a tale. She dwelt in a place that was high indeed, on top of mountain shrouded in mists and fogs.

Legend says it is a wild place full of magical creatures and beings who lived in harmony with the Sorceress, but could be deadly to interlopers seeking treasure or do evil deeds.

Ravenous, that is, for the denizens and the ravenous rocks that clashed together at the bottom of the mountain that fronted the sea. My Aunt Dahlia had hammered into my skull that the rocks closed upon unwary travellers like in that Greek tale with a chap called Jason.

While my B. stuttered over this revelation and my claws sank deeper through Jeeves’ shoulder guards, seeking mental and physical purchase, my Knight of Kindly Knots was proceeding with the matter at hand.

“I thank you for the approval Miss Glossop. Will you then aid us in reversing the spell upon Bertie?”

“Naturally, we can’t have him bounding about as a cat. Can’t tell what further mischief he will get into,” exclaimed Honoria.

In two swift motions the sorceress had her bag open and herbs and flowers upon the green grass. Then she pulled free her staff where the crystal was a dazzling azure blue and said rather imperiously, “Place your crystal next to these herbs and flowers and I shall bless them so that when you brew them in the enchanted goblet the spell shall be broken.”

I sighed and jumped down. Padding over to my personal holdall I retrieved my precious crystal and with some effort rolled it to the most lusciously smelling herbal and floral collection. I sat back and waited.

H.G gave a spiffing show of a sorceress: arms raised, staff in one outstretched hand, her face stern. Under her helmet her grey eyes were as silvery as the fish in the brook and dashed serious.

The world held its breath like the sea about to crash upon the rocks in one fell movement.

My fur stood up as if a storm were brewing. Jeeves knelt next to me, a solid presence while Alys watched calmly, chewing grass without faltering.

My K.K. laid a hand on my back, the touch a comfort against the gathering storm as Honoria – no, the Sorceress of R. R – muttered a spell of immense power.

A hush was around us and a glow now surrounded Honoria, a steady grey-black that while frightening was also profoundly _good_.

As quickly as the hush had come it fled as the stormy sea clashed upon us. I curled into Jeeves as magical energies rolled over us and through the herbal and flowery collection. I was alive with a spell of vibrant life and healing that had me wishing to dash about as I had a tendency to do now as a cat; usually in the early hours or just before bed much to Jeeves combined exasperation and fondness.

I meowed even as Jeeves petted me. Thankfully it was all over in a jiffy. The vibrant rush of life slowly receded until one could breathe as normal and not feel as if one’s skeleton was about to leap from their body and do a lively jig.

Gasping in relief, I blinked when Honoria turned eyes the hue of molten silver to me. Her smile however was kind.

“It is done. Go from this place once you are rested and make for the caves of the North. There you shall find the dwarven folk who will aid you. Ask for Ragnarr and promise him your most treasured book – for he has a love for learning, knowledge and wisdom. I sense you are a wise man as well as clever, so converse well with him and he will craft the goblet you seek.”

She addressed me then and I was all aquiver with nerves.

“Bertie, good luck with Sir Jeeves. Don’t muck this up. Be honest and faithful and you shall succeed.”

Insult and support all in one rather surprising package. I was too stunned to do more than watch as my gallant Knight accepted the package of spelled herbs and flowers. He tucked my spelled crystal, which now sparkled with an inner light that flashed like the fish in the brook, into my holdall once more and then rose with me in his arms.

Wonderfully muscular and powerful arms I must inform you.

Honoria had collected herself while Jeeves was busy, her bag and staff once more in their positions.

All three of us were quiet for a minute then I witnessed the extraordinary:

Sir Jeeves, Knight of Kindly Knots wishing farewell to H.G., Sorceress of Ravenous Reaches. One Feline Prince, merely watched in amazement as the two great people, with magnificent B.s to match exchanged pleasantries.

“Good luck Sir Jeeves – with Bertie and the Quest! Do come for a visit.”

“Thank you and farewell Sorceress of Ravenous Reaches, may our paths cross again. Until then may the air under your wings never falter.”

Honoria roared with laughter and then to my astonishment she transformed into a jet black raven. In a flash of obsidian wings the R. was airborne and flapping away.

☆☆☆

Tea-time and supper had come and gone before we resumed our confessions of earlier. As before, my Knight lay before me on the grass, the deepening dusk about us.

I sat with my paws tucked under my body, like a fluffy loaf and contemplated that I could lose Jeeves. Yet I couldn’t lie to my K. who I was dashed in loved with. So I forced myself to utter the necessary words.

“Jeeves, I am not who you think I am.”

Jeeves nodded carefully and said quietly, seriously, yet underscored with the compassion of love.

“Indeed Bertie. I am aware that you have been concealing your true identity from me.”

I meowed in frank astonishment, heart and stomach aflutter, my ears erect with bewilderment. “Why did you stay silent then?”

“Because you must have had your reasons and I knew well enough – and even moreso now – that you were a good person. After journeying with you these past few days and our adventures thus far, I believe I can securely attest to your kind and courageous nature, your honourable bent and loyalty to friends, for you did not abandon me when facing the Baron nor at facing Miss Glossop.”

His expression became stern but his eyes were still tender. “Now, if you wish to inform me of your true identity then I would be honoured, but only if you wish it.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and had to lick my paw and wipe it over my whiskers and face to collect myself. Sitting upright, with my fluffy tail wrapped snuggly around my legs I steeled my resolve. Faint heart never won fair maiden – or better yet, Sir Jeeves of Kindly Knots.

“Sir Jeeves of K.K. I am not merely a Lord, but a prince. I am Prince Bertie Wooster of the Western Wilds – my land abuts yours of Kindly Knots. The forest you discovered me in was near to my castle.”

I faltered at the shocked expression on Jeeves’ face and dread welled in my belly. _Please do not let him hate me._

“I…I was scared to tell you a first, because you were so kind and wonderful to me and I feared you would stop once you knew my true title. Dash it all Sir Knight! So many try to be my friends when they realise my position, but not before because I am stupid and-”

“You are not stupid,” interrupted Jeeves. I stared up in surprise at his fierce scowl, his eyes smouldering with anger and the outrage in his voice.

“Bertie…what I said previously remains true. You are a good and faithful man and cat. You have never shirked your duty, and have vigorously withstood your Aunt Agatha, Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows from interfering unjustly with your martial state.”

The fearsome Knight inhaled as my poor brain – not on par with Jeeves’ bountiful B. – spluttered to a stop. My whiskers were quivering and my tail lashing as my fur bristled. I was as unsettled as Gussie when he had found a new newt or Bingo a new girl.

How could Jeeves still think so highly of me?

Jeeves reached out, voice now slightly shaky, but with wonder and determination in his expression. A trembling hand eased my agitation.

“Normally I would be uneasy with class differences, but I love you and I will not dishonour your love for me with protestations. Nay, I will fight for the honour to keep and nourish your – our – love. If you would still see fit to pursuing our declarations of love.”

My mind was in a right bally state but I managed to firmly assure my Knight of my opinion. “I say yes! I want us to be together and look after our lands as one – your cleverness and wisdom and my cheerful disposition will be beneficial for our peoples. Oh Jeeves, I do love you!”

My Knight gathered me up and I curled up against his chest, wrapped in those powerful arms, my heart singing in joy.

I had gained the affections of my K. and would do my best to deserve his love and a happily ever after.


	4. Dwarven Folk of the Crystalline Caverns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we must plunge once more into the Fairy-tale whereupon Jeeves and Bertie seek Ragnarr of the Dwarfs, so that they can brew the potion to lift the enchantment and seek their happily ever after…

* * *

**Part 4 – The Dwarven Folk of the Northern Crystalline Caverns**

Our sleep that night was charmingly comfortable. Nothing better than curling up against the man you love with a fire crackling away and Alys resting nearby. Jeeves’ warmth enveloped me, hotter and sweeter than the fire he had built. Where I lay on his chest, my fur caressed the skin under his chin, causing my Knight to smile in his sleep.

That content smile was the last thing I saw before falling asleep into peaceful dreams and the first sight upon awakening. Jeeves is quite a vision I must say, morning stubble, disarrayed hair and not his normally groomed self. Marvellously rough.

Jeeves sighed at my smug amusement and utter fascination. After an inquisitive paw mapped out the dark hair on his chin he lifted me down so he could proceed with his morning ablutions. I allowed him to remove the royal feline, as I too had to prepare myself for the final furlong of our Quest. I would to continue my observations later and present my findings to my fellows.

The state and splendour of Jeeves’ morning stubble was as important as deciding which ale was suitable for pride of place in the annual spring celebrations.

Mind happily made up I checked my purple collar was in good order and admired the sight in the glistening brook, where the too early morning sun reflected off to provide a clear mirror. I couldn’t wait for Jeeves to see my purple shoes when I was human once again. I am certain he will love them, for his expression whenever examining my collar is one of wonder.

There is a touch of some other emotion…possibly fascination? I would say horror, but that doesn’t make sense, must be fascinated admiration at my good taste. Wait until he hears about my idea of adding a purple plume to his helmet! Perfect with a P.

In fact…a Perfect Purple Plume or P.P.P. Meow!

Where was I?

Oh yes, morning ablutions. Once I had finished I returned to Jeeves for a hasty breakfast of tea, cooked fish (caught by one intrepid F.) and bread with butter.

Then we were off with a fully rested Alys.

As we galloped away from that miraculous brook where we confessed all, I mused upon H.G. being a sorceress – and the _Sorceress Raven of Ravenous Reaches_ nonetheless! A night’s rest had transformed my opinion and I was feeling quite positive towards Honoria Glossop. It did help that she was no longer a threat, (of the death until we part “M” variety), and had sweetly assisted in providing ingredients for the potion, plus spelling my crystal.

Said crystal was tucked snugly between my paws in the holdall, (it was safer for me to be secured in the holdall when at a gallop), as I brooded.

We would have to invite Honoria to tea, one mustn’t upset a Sorceress after all – I have read those tales and definitely did not want the Sorceress Raven of R. R sweeping down upon us in anger! It would a rum thing to experience.

One Wicked Witch is quite sufficient.

Meirion would have to come with his children once they were settled and had the Baron’s lands turned to right.

I spent the rest of the day considering tea parties, Jeeves and I uniting our lands, marrying, (which now wasn’t a dreadful prospect). I really must point out to Aunt Dahlia the obvious: men were the ticket and specifically of the Jeeves persuasion.

Or possibly I’ll just let Jeeves loose on my Aunt D. He is bound to win her over with his superlative B. and extraordinary ability to turn matters in the favour of the requester.

Satisfied with my decision I settled into the journey.

☆☆☆

Another three days passed as we journeyed to the far north, the environment around us changing steadily from flatter plains and fields to more hills and rivers which carved out a winding path through the increasingly rocky surroundings. As the fertile environs slowly swept up to majestic mountains I dreamt of dragons and sorceresses, far removed from the Weeping Willows where my Aunt Agatha lurked.

On the fourth day we were greeted with a sky washed a pale pink-red as the sun rose, for we had ridden through the early hours of the night to reach by morning the crescent line of mountains that now towered in front of us. Jeeves had been anxious not to tarry long in territory where all manner of creatures dwelt.

Not dragons oh no, but Great Serpents akin to our snakes, some friendly others not so polite. Eagles that soared high upon the gusty winds and wished nothing to do with silly humans who had a dashed hard time understanding that not _every being upon this earth deemed humans the best drink at the party._

I had glimpsed many other beings here as we rode: foxes and wolves and Great Cats the size of Alys! Their eyes shining in the moonlight or off the lit lantern hanging from Alys’ bridle had been a touch terrifying, recalling to mind the terrible time my Aunt Dahlia caught one small Wooster ferreting about in the Castle kitchen for a biscuit.

Unfortunately, child Bertie had no Jeeves for protection or quick thinking for a cover story. Now, however, most fortunately one feline Bertie had a Jeeves and said Knight expertly led us through all the potential danger, with Alys remaining calm and sharp-eyed.

Alys took a well-worn path and sooner than you could grab a drink at a party we were riding up into the mountains. Rapidly the air turned colder, a frosty crispness that crept into your lungs as you breathed. On one side the mountain plunged down into a sheer drop that gave this feline a light head, rather similar to when the Drones drink too much wine at our monthly meet in my Castle.

The Drones are bunch of chaps who drink and be merry, far too frequently according to both my Aunts. I suspect both A.s are unfortunately correct, because spending company with Jeeves makes one wish to reform. Yet I’m certain a little tipple every now and then will not hurt.

I know! I will ask Jeeves to get his magnificent noggin on the dilemma. I made a few claw marks into the cloth I had found during our travels. The marks would help remind me to ensure a variety of fish were in stock before putting the matter to my man.

Even as I arrived at this splendid conclusion Jeeves had Alys halt before a cave.

I peered out of my holdall to see the “Little Folk” or Dwarfs standing guard. Stocky and fearsome, they were clad in the most spiffing display of embroidered cloth, engraved metal and decorated leather. Weapons were close to hand and their beards were intricately beaded and looking utterly marvellous.

Every colour imaginable was on offer and I for one could hardly wait to broker a deal for the exchange of garments. Perhaps they could add a perfect purple plume to Jeeves’ helmet?

There was a short conversation and then we were being escorted into the cave and…well. All I can say is that the dwarfs are outstanding engineers. The walls of the cave were hollowed out with expert precision with magically glowing crystals set at intervals. More traditional torches were secured into the ground on tall pillars of stone, their light illuminating a strange contraption which held a curved boat.

A dashed complicated and confusing pulley system was attached to the long boat – a bit similar to the one those Viking chaps had when they popped over to good old Blighty for more than a cup of tea and cake.

We were herded onto this boat whereupon this massive crack opened beneath us. It was the size of a bally cathedral!

I say, I was dashed glad for Jeeves’ presence. He had dismounted from Alys and was holding her reigns. His other hand was petting my head, for I was still safely secured in the holdall.

I meowed quietly, watching in fascination and mild horror. My eyesight was sufficient to see the pinpricks of light below us: as if the stars had dropped from the heavens to be inside the hollows of the earth.

Very pretty (and a dashed scary to boot)!

Heat rose up to us. The dwarfs stationed on the boat began to slowly lower us through the crack into a Cavernous Chasm (capitals once more well deserved!). I could smell metals and minerals and fresh air riding on numerous drafts.

We were in a space so vast I couldn’t comprehend the size of it. My fear of heights however was gone for there was only the night and stars cupping us, with extra illumination coming from the glowing crystals that were attached to the fore and aft of the boat and to the staves of three of the dwarfs.

There was no height to be afraid of, for perception was skewered – how the dwarfs managed to navigate this bally boat was an amazing feat worthy of the engineering genius of their kind.

The smell and taste of magic – life with a metallic tang – crackled among my fur and Alys’ coat. Jeeves hair was ruffled, his helmet and weapons on the saddle.

I breathed deep of Jeeves’ musky odour which calmed my nerves. My ears twitched for in the distance I could discern the faint roar of a waterfall and waterways. A jolly thing being a cat! I would miss this when I was just plain old Bertie again.

Gradually the starry night was displaced by the steady glow of more lighted crystals and we touched a still lake. The lake was in the centre of a complicated cave system, so vast that we couldn’t see the far walls.

We were ushered off onto a platform where Alys was gently led by a dwarf to a stable house just to our right. Alys whinnied and happily followed for the dwarf was chatting about food, water and warmth.

Meanwhile, we turned to the left where a dwarf was waiting. He was hale and hearty with a magnificent golden beard tucked into his belt. Jewelled beads adorned the golden hair, neatly plaited and on his head was a hat of leather to keep him clean.

The best? He had a Perfect Plume (scarlet) in his hat! Now this was the dwarf to ask for a P.P for my own Knight!

Utterly delighted I nearly missed the introduction.

We had found Ragnarr, Crafter and Smith of the Dwarfs of the Northern Crystalline Caverns.

☆☆☆

Ragnarr sat astride the stone chair in his smithy, smoking his pipe with a contemplative expression. His brown eyes were of the piercing sort – you felt as if an arrow had sailed right through you when his gaze focused on your person.

Most alarming.

Naturally Jeeves was unfazed and returned an assessing look upon the Master Dwarf, full of a similar piercing quality, as well as that bright intelligence that is sharper than a dragon’s tooth and brighter than the sun.

Clearly this was the occasion for a Wooster to remain silent.

I did my best, but after half an hour I was restless and had the jitters.

So I uncurled myself from where I had plonked the old form next to the fire, (hot enough to scorch toast!), and began batting about a few stray embers. The exercise did me good, and I fancy, showed me off most handsomely to my Knight who stole appreciative glances towards me.

Otherwise, I ignored both gentlemen for their conversation was of a philosophical bent, with much “improving of the mind” books being debated. While I am sure that such subjects are eminently suitable for Jeeves’ B. and Ragnarr’s perceptive mind, this Feline Prince preferred a nourishing drink to wet the whistle, scrumptious food and a perfect cup of tea.

Currently, said F.P. also relished raw meat, long grass, splashing in the water to capture a jumping fish and chasing The Thread of Doom and the Bright Ember of the Forge, but a Wooster knows how to adapt.

The B.E. of the F. captivated me for a while until I discovered the box of feathers stashed away in a dark sooty corner.

The battle was underway.

The Code of the Wooster’s demanded I take retribution on the elusive feathers so I yowled to announce war, (couldn’t take them by surprise, wouldn’t be honourable), and pounced.

A fast feathery fight later I collapsed with my prize: a bevy of purple feathers of all different shades. I hoped that Ragnarr would permit me to keep them for Jeeves’ plumage.

Indeed, the Master Dwarf was evidently amused by something for he was laughing when I took note of the Knight and Dwarf. Jeeves’ eyes were merry and his face a shiny disc of happiness.

“The feathers take your fancy Fair Prince?” asked Ragnarr, his voice as deep as the mountain he resided in, and thick and sweet as honey.

“For…for…Jeeves,” I panted. Hmpf, what could Jeeves mean by that look of alarm? No bally rats here!

Ragnarr chuckled. “Well then, I can’t say no to such a handsome cat. May I ask what Sir Jeeves is meant to do with your feathers?”

I grinned, preening even as I tried to paw off the feather balanced on the top of my head. “Plumage for his helmet. Jeeves will match my collar - and shoes – then. The Perfect P.P.!”

Jeeves went slightly pale and I realised he must be faint from the heat. “Perfect Purple Plumage,” I explained even as I rose, shook the feathers out of my fur and wandered over to Jeeves, tail straight up in joy.

I placed a ginger white paw on Jeeves’ leg and mustered up as much sternness as possessed by the Wooster lineage, (in my dreaded Aunts – far too much).

“Have some water Jeeves, you have gone terribly pale. Reminds me of the time when Gussie lost Madeline’s book when looking for newts. Poor chap – _poor me!”_

Ragnarr was coughing for some reason, must be his billowing pipe, while Jeeves merely nodded and drank without speaking. I shrugged and paid attention to the Dwarf who spoke while Jeeves was fortifying himself.

“I can easily forge this goblet for you. Wait in my house and it shall be done by the time the sun sets today, for you must drink the potion in the moonlight, when the rays of the rising moon can fall upon the liquid contents.”

A shiver passed through me. I would miss being a cat, but being the human Bertie again would be most spiffing.

“How much?” I asked.

“Sir Jeeves has paid the price,” reassured Ragnarr. “His conversation and company are rewards in their own right, but he has blessed me with two books of great knowledge and wisdom. As for fashioning a plumage on his helmet…I would be glad to in exchange for an opportunity to discuss open trade between my peoples and yours.”

I grinned and meowed happily, tail bushy and purring as I responded, “It would by my pleasure!”

☆☆☆

Thus it was, as a cold night closed in and a white moon rose that Jeeves and I were waiting outside the caverns of the Dwarfs.

Jeeves sat cross-legged; the freshly brewed potion contained in a silver goblet. The only design was one of ravens, dragons, a knight on a horse and a cat outside a castle. Symbols of a Quest thus far.

I waited next to him, the fragrance of the potion teasing my nose. It was the most wonderous smell, the scents of the wild we had travelled through, the beings we had met, and of Jeeves.

Gradually the white moon crested the horizon as darkness fully fell. The Dwarfs behind us had lit lanterns and unveiled the crystals spelled with magic to illuminate the night. Ivory moonbeams fell upon the potion, catching the crystal that was nestled at the bottom of the cup.

The colours that Honoria had coaxed into life within the crystal gleamed bright in the moon, turning the golden liquid a medley of colour.

_The time was nigh._

I couldn’t tell you how I knew that I must drink then or be trapped forever as a cat, but somehow this Wooster understood that the Quest would be for naught if I did not act immediately.

So in a single bound I was balanced on one muscular leg, with a front paw resting on Jeeves’ left arm. Dipping my head down I drank deeply.

As my tongue lapped away memories swirled through me. My fear and resentment at Aunt Agatha, my determination to be free, my desperation….followed by my awe and hope at meeting Jeeves, my growing love for Jeeves, my exhilaration at being a cat – the joy at befriending a dragon, the heat of battle when defending Meirion the Dragon, my wonder at realising Honoria was a Sorceress…the starry night of the yawning Chasm that led to the Crystalline Caverns inhabited by the Dwarfs.

So many memories, scents, emotions and sensations washed through me like a wave until at last all the potion was drunk and I was licking my whiskers clean.

Gazing up at the silent moon, now much higher in the heavens, I shivered as her beams cupped me in a peculiar warmth that was jolly welcome. My belly was hot and full, my spirit burning bright – as if I had just enough wine at the Drones, but not too much.

Exhaling, I jumped off Jeeves as if in a dream and heard my concerned K. asking if I was well.

I couldn’t answer for all of a sudden I was _changing_.

In a dreamlike blur I witnessed my fur retreating, my claws becoming nails and my purple shoes popping back into being. In a jiffy, Bertie Wooster, Prince of the Western Wilds was once more human.

My clothes sadly to say were not suitable for such a cold climate.

“I say Jeeves it is bally cold! I don’t suppose you have a blanket?”

My wonderful Knight was blinking back tears and I was engulfed by those powerful arms I admired so much.

Let me tell you, they were fantastic as a kitty, but simply smashing when human.

The kiss was a corker.

Just perfect. 

☆☆☆

With that our Quest was complete. Naturally, more had to be done. A long and arduous journey home awaited us, with a fight against the dreaded Aunt Agatha, the Wicked Witch of Weeping Willows.

Yet we didn’t face the dreaded Aunt Agatha, the W.W. of Weeping Willows on our lonesome.

No, for on our return furlong we gathered all the companions and friends we had met: Ragnarr, greatest Crafter and Smith of his people in the Far Northern Crystalline Caverns; Honoria – the Sorceress Raven of Ravenous Reaches; Meirion the Dragon who had cured the Baron’s lands, transforming them from _Sickly Swamp_ to _Sweetly Scented Swamp_.

As one we faced my aunt and banished her.

Weeping Willows were no more, rather they became Winsome Willows – full of the simple joy of varied plant life and fauna.

Unfortunately, I can’t go into the details here as that is quite a different adventure full of derring-do, sorcery, unbeatable ingenuity from our Master Dwarf and Jeeves’ brilliant B. dealing all sorts of tactical genius, while yours truly utilised all the sneaky tricks I had learnt when a cat.

I will say that my purple shoes positively make me as silent and sure footed as any feline. Jeeves’ expression is always one of horrified awe. Quite splendid.

Any meow, I have prattled on long enough.

Maybe one day, when the old noggin is feeling up to it and I’m not gadding about after our bevy of children, ( _another_ tale for another day!), I shall pen the details of our Voyage Home, our Battle against Aunt A., my marriage to Jeeves and the subsequent treaties we initiated once our lands were as one.

First, I must have a cup of tea. An exhausting business all this adventuring! Now, where is my dragon tea-service?

“Bingo! Gussie! Honoria? Have you seen the bally tea-cups? I’m sure they were in the cupboard. Oh no, _children!”_

☆ **_And they lived Happily Ever After_** ☆

Many years later..

**_They Lived Happily Ever After is a jolly promising ending – and quite true! Despite a few upsets throughout life we had a bally excellent journey through life I can tell you. Quests and friendships and advancements in medicine and engineering – too much to count._ **

**_Now we rest, allowing our children and grandchildren to take the reins._ **

**_What tales of wonder will they weave? As long as I can find the tea-service I’m sure it will be fine._ **

**_On that note, I must leave you to fetch tea for Jeeves – he was seeing to the grandchildren and our guests: an Ancient Dragon – our dear friend Meirion, Honoria the Sorceress of Ravenous Reaches and her wife, and Ragnarr with his beard now long and pearlescent white._ **

**_So toodlepip!_ **

**_May you all have a Happily Ever After as well – Meow!_ **

=^_^=


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